


Scrapes and Bruises

by HunniLibra



Series: Dragon Age II Shorts [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Baby Fluff, Day in a life, F/M, Fluff, Modern Life, Modern Thedas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 20:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12020736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunniLibra/pseuds/HunniLibra





	Scrapes and Bruises

Fenris cleansed the scrape tenderly careful not to rub the reddening skin too hard. Large hands blotting the skin as deep red turned to a pale pink the water washing away the debris. Small chubby fingers gripped the marble countertop as his little warrior stuck out his knee for his father's ministrations. Lower lip trembling all the while in a failed attempt to stifle his tears. Red nose running staining his shirt, he hiccuped. 

“It's OK to cry Adrian.” Fenris murmured voice low and gentle as he placed a large bandage and kiss over the wound before looking up at his son. He wiped a stray tear from his son's dark skin before messing up his curls lovely. Adrian lifted his arms silently begging to be held, trying his best not to cry. The elf chuckled scooping the toddler into his strong arms and walking to the glass patio door.

“I'm not cryin’” Adrian muttered into the collar of Fenris’s shirt snuggling closer, his warm breath tickling the nape of his neck. 

“Oh my mistake” His father chuckled trying in vain to hide his smile in the boy's soft brown hair.

“I wasn't!” Adrian interjected pushing away from his neck to look him straight in his face giving Fenris a look that reminded him so much of his wife. “Warriors don't cry. You don't right Papa?” 

“On the contrary.” Fenris said stepping out into the warm afternoon sun enjoying the crisp grass underneath his bare feet. He strolled leisurely through the large back garden while his son mulled over his words coming to rest lying on the outdoor couch. He bent his knees for Adrian so he could sit on his chest and lean on his legs for back support. Adrian rubbed a puffy eye and crossed his legs. 

“Why?”

Fenris raised a shoulder noncommittally propping his head up with a pillow. “When I’m happy, or sad, hurt, angry, frustrated… There are many reasons to and they are all ok.” 

“Why would you cry if you’re happy?” 

“I was-hmm… overjoyed and knew no other way to express it.” Fenris smiled remembering the two times he had, at his wedding and the birth of his son.

“Does Ma cry?” 

“All the time. Like a leaky faucet.” As if on cue the woman in question emerged, still in her work clothes. Heels in hand she padded to the two bending to kiss them both before pulling up a chair. She groaned in pleasure as she dropped heavily into the cushions. Arms wide Hawke waited expectantly for her son’s embrace.   
Adrian couldn’t control his excitement, squirming from his father's chest he crawled into her lap ignorant to the grunts of discomfort from Fenris. Hawke laughed scooping him up and rested him on her lap free hand twining lazily with Fenris’s.

“I’m the ugliest crier you’d ever see, boogies everywhere.” Their child’s giggles filled the air as she tickled his side.

“Gross! No you don’t!”

“It’s true! Go ask your Godfather, I left him in the living room.” Her smile sly as Adrian let out an excited shout sliding to the grass to run and greet him. He loved when Varric showed up, both parents weren’t sure if it was the customary treat the dwarf brought with him or his jovial nature. But both were happy to know Adrian was in safe hands. Hawke stretched plopping her stockinged feet on his chest. “So what was it this time?” 

“Dastardly swing set.” Fenris sighed cracking an exasperated grin. Hawke snorted squirming to get comfortable. 

“Boy has two left feet I swear.” 

“Like his mother.” He winked blocking the playful kick to his chin with her foot. Gripping her foot gently he kissed her ankle running a hand up the calf enjoying how her dark skin flush a rose gold under his fingers. 

“That was once after too many bottles and stilettos.” She said defensively trying to ignore his wandering fingers focusing on slow rising and fall of his chest.

“The most graceful tumble to the sidewalk I and the press have ever seen.” He joked hand stopping on her knee, fingers spreading and kneading the flesh around it as if remembering the stupid bruising. “Had to carry you up six flights of stairs and pass a half mad dog.”

Hawke blew a raspberry pulling herself out of his embracing hearing their sons mile a minute chatting approaching having found Varric. “Please-it was totally worth it.” 

“It was.” He agreed to himself at her turned back, now completely engrossed by their child and friend.


End file.
